Teaching Millie She's Hot Ch. 04

"What's this about?" I asked Demarco after a few minutes. Alex had finished giving Millie's ass the spotlight treatment, and was now examining her tits.

I wasn't feeling particularly jealous, just curious. It would have been hard to be jealous of Alex anyway, even if I was wired like that. The guy was obviously as gay as a Castro Street parade.

"Will you bend over for me, sweetheart? That's enough, thank you." He was kneeling next to her, shining his light on her hanging breasts from underneath.

"Alex is our body makeup man," Demarco told me. "I don't think a straight guy could handle it, but Alex is immune."

He overheard us. "I'm not immune to perfection, Frank," he said. "Stand up straight, sweetie. This girl is flawless. She has this cute little beauty mark just over her butt crack, a little to the left--" he pointed--"but I swear that's all. Her nipples are absolutely ENORMOUS--but they're perfect. Like a little girl's, only bigger. And how she can have boobs this big with no stretch marks, I don't understand."

"I almost always wear a bra," Millie said in a tiny voice. "At least, till lately."

"Well, keep it up, sweetie. They hang low, but they still stick out like a sailor's wet dream. Never seen boobs this big that are still so firm. Most women your size, they're down to their knees."

He turned to us. "She doesn't need anything from me either, Frank. Marble-white skin so delicate the veins show through, but not too much--a big, round ass without a hint of cellulite--that perfect bald pussy--did you shave this morning, sweetheart?"

Millie nodded and pointed at me. "I shaved her at the hotel," I said.

DeMarco grumbled under his breath, "Nice work if you can get it."

Alex went on: "I've never seen skin like yours, sweetheart, and I've been doing this a long time." He turned back to his boss. "Frank, tell the photographers to be careful and not fuzz her up. She needs a razor-sharp focus. There aren't any flaws to hide. Even with that, you're going to get complaints that she's airbrushed. Women just don't come this perfect."

Millie was smiling shyly--and blushing like a stoplight. DeMarco grinned and said, "Alex, you're beginning to worry me. Are you still gay?'

Alex sniffed and drew himself up, offended. "You don't have be straight to appreciate a work of art," he said huffily.

Suddenly he spoke without the affectation. "Frank--I mean, she doesn't even have calluses on her heels, man. All big women do. Her feet are like a child's. I've never seen that before."

"I take care of my feet," said Millie timidly. We all looked down at them, and after a moment Millie giggled.

"What?" I asked her.

She giggled again. "Well, I'm standing here naked with my tits and ass hanging out and my pussy shaved, and everyone's looking at my feet!"

We all laughed, even Alex. "They're gorgeous, silly," he said, flapping a hand. "Just like the rest of you."

There was an odd moment when no one spoke; and then Alex abruptly turned to leave. He picked up his bag--at least it was tan leather, and not pink--and headed for the door. "Well, ta-ta, people," he said with an airy wave. "Call me when you have a girl who needs me, Frank. This one doesn't."

At the door, he stopped, turned back, and spoke to Millie once more. "Have fun with your shoot, sweetheart. I've never said this before, but I'm looking forward to seeing it. 'Bye, now." He wiggled his fingers in a wave and was gone.

Sheila looked at DeMarco. "Did you see that?" said the matronly woman with the braids.

DeMarco was still looking at the door. "Well, I will be dipped in shit," he said.

"What?" Millie and I said together.

"Alex is the most critical human you'd ever want to meet," said DeMarco as Millie slipped back into her robe.

The woman said, "I've never seen him speak directly to a model before. He always just criticizes them as he works, talking about them like they're not even there. He's usually pretty rude about it, too."

Demarco did a dead-on impression of his gay employee, flapping his hands limp-wristedly: 'Look at those lumpy thunder thighs! This bitch has stretch marks like ruts on an unpaved road! Oh, yuck, her skin looks like unbaked bread dough!' Stuff like that." All three of us laughed.

"He seemed very sweet to me," said Millie.

"You're special," was all anyone could say, and I did. Demarco and Sheila both nodded slowly, looking at her.

I think we all felt it at that moment. Millie stood there barefoot in her white terry robe, covered from chin to mid-calf, and she was still incredibly sexy.

"Well, if we're all done in here, it's time to go to the studio," said DeMarco after a moment. "Are you ready, Millie?" She nodded excitedly and bounced up and down on her toes for a heartbeat. Her smile was incandescent.

We walked across the hall to the biggest room yet, a full-out photography studio. One wall was set up with a large sheet of seamless paper, pale green. It covered the floor, curved up against the wall, and on up to the ceiling. I saw other rolls of paper in different colors, and various pieces of furniture and props. Chairs, bits of metal scaffolding, ladders, even a small set of kids' monkeybars. Off to the side was a bedroom set, and nearby was a large shower stall open on two sides. There were lights, aluminized umbrella reflectors, and of course cameras everywhere.

The wall behind us was done up to look like ancient stone, and it had shackles hanging from it. I noticed some bondage equipment around--a rack of leather straps and hoods, coils of rope, wooden frames and stocks, and something that could only be a rack.

Millie's eyes were as big as saucers as she looked around. She pointed to the dungeon wall. "Can I do some of that?" she asked breathily. We had only experimented a little with bondage at home, but it turned her on like a lightswitch.

Demarco blinked. "Wow," he said. "The girls hardly ever ask for that. We usually have to pay extra..."

He shook his head as if dazed, and then answered. "Sure, honey. But not today. We'll save that for a special feature down the road."

Then he smiled at her. "I think we're going to be giving you a lot of work. For a long time. And we're going to make lots and lots of money."

Millie, honest to a fault, waved her pretty hand and said, "I don't care about that. I just want to show off and feel sexy."

Demarco blinked at me, speechless again. I just smiled.

The photographer and his assistant had come out of the darkroom and were waiting to be introduced. "Millie, this is Ed Wallenski. He's been our chief and best photographer for many years. There was no question about who was going to get this assignment. Had to be Ed. Ed, this is Millie Wilson. We're going to call her Millie O'Rourke."

"An Irish lass! I like it. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Wilson. May I call you Millie?"

Ed was at least 65 years old, slender and slightly stooped, with gray, thinning hair and an aquiline nose that fit well with his old-fashioned courtesy. Millie was instantly taken with him.

She laughed. "If you're going to be taking naked pictures of me, Ed, I guess you can call me by my first name." She offered her hand, and he shook it politely. I was surprised he didn't kiss it instead.

"Millie, this is my assistant, Leon." A tall young man with a mop of thick black hair came forward and smiled. "He's invisible."

"Huh?" said Millie.

"I mean that neither of us are to see him. You are to ignore him completely and concentrate on me. He does what I tell him, adjusting lights and reflectors and so on, and he is very good at it. But he is as much a tool of my art as my cameras, and he knows this. He may occasionally ask me a question; I am teaching him my art, and that is part of our arrangement. But to you he will say nothing, and you will say nothing to him. Is that clear?"

Millie looked troubled. "That seems rude to me, Ed. It doesn't seem right to just pretend someone's not there."

Ed looked at Leon, who spoke for the first and last time, from what Millie told me later. "It's all right, Mrs. Wilson. Ed is right. You have to concentrate on his instructions and forget about me. Ed is very serious about erotic art, and I can't be a distraction. My feelings won't be hurt. I learn by watching him. I just hope I'm half as good as he is some day."

Ed smiled at him paternally. "I saw your last shoot, boy. You're coming along." Leon beamed. "Now back under your Harry Potter cloak, Leon. We have work to do. Change that seamless to the ocean blue. Now that I see her, I want to bring out her eyes."

Millie turned to me. "Time to go, Jeffie. You'll be a distraction, too." Ed nodded with approval as she put her hands on my chest and stood on tiptoe to kiss me--carefully, so as not to smear her lipstick.

"Everyone out," said Ed, and Sheila, DeMarco, and I were all herded to the door. As we left, I caught a glimpse through the closing door of Millie dropping her robe to the floor and walking naked toward the blue background.

Through the door, I heard Ed's voice: "Oh, my dear sweet Lord. Thank you." And even a muttered "Holy shit," from Leon.

I knew the photo session would take at least four hours, and I had planned to take in some sights and maybe hit a few adult novelty stores to see if I could find Millie some new outfits or toys. I knew she'd call on my cell if they got done sooner.

On my way to the door, though, DeMarco beckoned me back into his office. The new contract was ready.

I skimmed it--can't be too careful--and I signed on the dotted line as Millie's agent of record. There was another line for her to sign when she and Ed were finished.

After I signed, he closed the door. I looked at him inquiringly. "I have a question," he said. "Please don't be angry or offended. I assure you, it's business."

"Shoot," I said.

"It has to do with you and your wife doing hardcore."

"We haven't talked about that yet."

"I know, but this could be a deal-breaker from my end."

I started to ask what it was, and then I got it. "You want to know how well I'm hung," I said.

"Got it in one," he said.

"Nine inches, about yea big around." I held up my thumb and forefinger in a very familiar and easy to remember position.

"Measured on the top or the bottom?" he asked.

"On the top."

He smiled and nodded. "That'll do," he said. "That'll do. Lot of pros don't pack that much meat. Okay, that's all."

"I thought of something," I said. "If Millie agrees to that--and I don't know if she will--one thing that might make the difference is if you can come to our home and tape us there."

"That's doable," he said instantly. "We do location shoots all the time for the magazine. No reason your place couldn't be a location for some video work."

"I'll try to sell it," I said.

He looked at me. "You're a funny guy," he said. "Most men would hate for their wives to do this kind of thing. Especially guys with beautiful wives like yours."

I smiled. "It makes her happy. I don't mind if other guys just look, and that's all she wants. She'd never let some other guy fuck her. But she likes showing off what she's got and making them want to."

He nodded with a grin. "She's a cockteaser."

"To the bone," I said. "Turns her on like a high-tension line, and then she fucks me like I'm the last guy on Earth and she hasn't had a cock for ten years."

He shook his head. "To have her in my bed every night--man, I can't imagine what that would be like."

"Bed, shower, living room, kitchen, back yard... No," I said. "You really can't imagine it." I left him there, smiling wistfully, and went out to the street.

The photo session lasted for seven hours. When I got back to the offices after four, they were taking a break for a light meal.

Ed looked a little frantic; turns out he had decided Millie was his Beatrice, his Mona Lisa, his Elizabeth Barrett--not the love of his life, but the inspiration for his greatest work, the raw material from which he would craft the greatest porn pictures ever made. He had that slightly wild-eyed look of something between genius and madness. I had to promise him that we'd stay in New York for as long as it took to create his masterwork.

Leon looked okay, but he seemed a little haunted, too. It occurred to me that he was seeing things now that would stick in his head forever. I didn't hear him speak for the rest of that day. He either stared at Millie or the wall.

Millie was in better shape than any of us. She was energized, all but humming with sexual energy, and still looked fresh as the well-known daisy. I had never seen her so happy.

After the snack, the three of them went back into the studio. As she left, Millie whispered in my ear, "Now I get to do the dildo stuff!"

I found my own hands were shaking a little as I sat down in the lobby to wait. It seemed like a long wait, because it was.

When they were finally done, Ed and Leon came out first. Ed looked like a man who had seen God and had an appointment to see Him again. Leon just looked like he'd been hit by a train. Neither of them said much, other than Ed announcing their intention to go down the street and get drunk together. Apparently they had reached a new plateau in their artistic collaboration.

Millie came out looking kind of dreamy-eyed, tired and relaxed, and her newly red hair was still stick to her sweaty forehead. I knew that post-multiple-orgasm look, so I just took her in my arms and held her. She leaned her head on my chest gratefully.

"So how many times did you cum?" I whispered as I hugged her.

She breathed it in my ear: "I lost count around thirty-five or forty," she said, "but we were almost done by then. The best ones were after that. That's why I lost count."

I looked down at her, and she smiled up at me almost sleepily. She looked a little stoned, to tell the truth. "Did you have a good time?" I asked, stupidly.

She giggled tiredly. "Sure," she said, "but the best time will be when you see the pictures."

I looked at her skeptically. She kissed me then. "What do you think kept me so turned on, silly?" she asked. "All through it, I just kept thinking, 'Wait till Jeff sees THIS one!'"

I hugged her again and spun her around a little, and then I got her dressed and took her back to the hotel. We ordered dinner from room service, and she slept till noon the next day.

We stayed in New York for two weeks, not one, and left after promising to come back in a few months, when they called us.

Millie did seven more photo sessions and five videos; one was a location shoot in the Catskills, the only one I got to see. Millie posed in the shallows of a small creek, and seemed to spend most of her time bending over, squatting, and just generally spreading her legs.

Her tits were the stars, but Ed and Leon were in love with her ass and pussy, too, and Ed seemed to have a thing for her pretty feet and hands. That was okay with me. I did, too.

We finally met some of the other bigwigs at CURVY, like the publisher and some of the board members. After seeing Millie, they wanted to attend one of her photo sessions, of course; but Ed wouldn't hear of it, and DeMarco, the executive editor, backed him up. "If her husband doesn't get to be there," he said, "why should you guys? You'll just have to wait for the magazine to come out, like everybody else."

They offered Millie an exclusive contract, so she wouldn't work for anyone else. I guess they knew a gold mine when they saw one.

We held out for five times their initial offer, and they finally coughed up. They weren't complaining about it when we finally shook hands.

We finally went back home. I had already quit my job by then, of course. When Millie and I left the City, we were carrying checks for more than I made in two years. It looked like between Millie's modeling fees and residuals and the projected income from her videos, we wouldn't need my puny income any more.

Millie agreed to the hardcore shoot in our house, too. On the plane home, we discussed it in low tones. Crowding with other passengers wasn't a problem this time; we were flying first class.

"We have work to do, baby," I said. "Look at this." I pulled an object from my carryon bag.

"What's that?"

"That, Big Tits, is a state-of-the-art digital video camera."

"Ooo!" Her eyes twinkled.

"They want us to produce some special footage."

"Us fucking?" She looked at me as innocently as if she had just said, "Birthday parties?"

"No," I smiled, "But you're close. Do you know what a 'facial' is?"

She blinked. "Sure. That's when you go to the spa or a beauty salon and--"

"Not that kind." I explained it to her, and she giggled and licked her lips, eyes sparkling with delight. "That sounds yummy!" she said. "So every time you shoot--"

"Well, not *every* time," I said with a smile.

"You know what I mean," she said petulantly, waving a hand. "Every time we do this--I jack you off all over my face while I try to catch your sperm in my mouth?" She looked at me expectantly, all innocence.

"That's right. From different angles and distances. They want lots of closeups, but lots of shots of my cum squirting and dripping all over those big tits of yours, too."

"Sounds like fun!" She might have been a teenager agreeing to go to a movie. "But what are they going to do with this stuff?"

"Well, if we have enough footage for them, they're going to come out with a special DVD called 'Millie Eats Cum'."

She giggled. "That's so nasty! I love it! What else can we do?"

"Whatever," I said. "They said they can use any footage of you at all--reading, cooking, cleaning, gardening, brushing your teeth, whatever."

She blinked. "That's weird. Why would they want that?

" "Makes you more of a real person. Millie, a year from now there's going to be about a million guys out there in love with you. They're going to want to know everything they can about who you are and what you're like and what it would be like to know you. It'll make you seem more real to them, and make your naked pictures seem even more intimate."

She was blushing again, predictably. "Oh," she said.

After a few moments of digesting that, she said, "Jeff, this is kind of scary. I'm starting to feel like it can't be real again."

"It's real, baby," I said. "But the one that oughta be scared is me."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because every one of those guys' fondest wish is going to be taking you away from me."

She smiled and looked at me like I'd said something really stupid. "That," she said with authority, "will never happen."

"Some of them are going to be rich," I said. "And great-looking. And hung like a T. Rex."

She laughed. "And they'd never have given an ugly fat girl who wore old lady's clothes and never looked anyone in the face a second glance. And they'd never let me show off for other guys. And they'd never, ever, ever love me like you do, and I could never, ever love them like I love you."

I just looked at her, struck dumb once again by my incredible, amazing, totally undeserved luck. "Well, all righty then. Never mind."

We both laughed, and then we kissed for a while. I considering asking Millie if she wanted to join the Mile High club, but decided against it. The trick there is not to be noticed, and when you're with Millie, that doesn't happen.

After a while, I said, "There is one thing we have to do to get ready for the hardcore shoot at our house," I said.

Millie was instantly all ears. Well, all ears and tits. "What?" she asked.

"We need to rehearse. A lot."

It took a half-second, and then she giggled. "Now that you don't have a job, Jeff, I don't see why we can't rehearse all day."

The "fasten your seatbelts" sign came on with a bell tone. The plane was coming in for a landing. "Exactly what I had in mind," I said. "Now take off your panties."